


I am Daredevil

by Jonah_Smith_907



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, BY ANY OF THOSE TAGS, Depression, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fighting between Matt and Foggy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, SERIOUSLY DON'T READ IF TRIGGERED, Self Harm, Self-Hatred, Smut, broken matt, emotional hurt with happy ending, honestly this is so fucking dark, i dunno, just a little smut tho, mentions of suicide/ suicidal thoughts, sb stop me, shouldn't read if triggered by too much emotional damage and stuff, tags might change?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12712920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907
Summary: Everything hurt. Matt slowly cracked open his eyes, trying to find out where he was. He didn't remember much from before he had passed out, only that he had been injured. Badly.Now he was somewhat relieved to find himself on his couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin. He must have called Claire who then stitched him up, because when he examined his sore body, he noticed the accurately placed twines.Unfortunately, with every wake second his ache increased, burning through his skin. He gripped the backrest of his couch and tried to pull himself up into sitting position, but he had to stop after only a few inches, as sharp pain shot through his entire body. A rough groan escaped his dry throat.“I wouldn't do that if I were you. Then again, maybe I would. What the hell do I know about Matt Murdock.”It's some pretty dark and sad shit until chapter 6, then it gets a little happier. I hope.





	1. I thought I could trust you.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, chapter one, very much talking between Matt and Foggy; blame and self blame.
> 
> Please excuse if there's any weird spelling mistakes or something, I had a pretty rough time lately so I don't have enough patience to look over everything again :)

Everything hurt. Matt slowly cracked open his eyes, trying to find out where he was. He didn't remember much from before he had passed out, only that he had been injured. Badly.  
Now he was somewhat relieved to find himself on his couch, a blanket pulled up to his chin. He must have called Claire who then stitched him up, because when he examined his sore body, he noticed the accurately placed twines. 

Unfortunately, with every wake second his ache increased, burning through his skin. He gripped the backrest of his couch and tried to pull himself up into sitting position, but he had to stop after only a few inches, as sharp pain shot through his entire body. A rough groan escaped his dry throat. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you. Then again, maybe I would. What the hell do I know about Matt Murdock.”

Matt froze with the instant, having recognized the voice immediately. Sudden fear rose in his chest. This wasn't right. Foggy shouldn't be here, he shouldn't see him like this. Not this weak and certainly not with the knowledge of his secret identity. He would hate him; he would never forgive him. If not for running around and beating up people, wearing a red devil's mask, then for not telling him. 

Foggy sat down the glass of water he'd been holding and poured a new one for Matt. Then he went to sit down in a chair in front of Matt, but when he walked past him, he noticed how he was still clinging to the couch, his muscles tense. He could see his arms shaking every so slightly. Maybe not necessarily because of the physical effort. Instead he seemed to have gone somewhere entirely different inside his mind, probably in shock, so he gently tapped his shoulder to get him back.

Matt snapped out of his trance with a flinch and let himself sink back into the pillow, slightly embarrassed. Then suddenly Foggy was closer and helped him lift his head, carefully steadying him as he brought the glass of water against his lips. The cool liquid felt soothing against his dry lips. He took a few sips – then nearly choked on one if Foggy hadn't pulled the glass away soon enough. Then he just sort of laid there, eyes closed, and concentrated on his breathing.

Foggy watched him closely, a sad feeling slowly taking over him. How could they possibly have ended up here? 

That's when Matt spoke up for the first time: “What happened yesterday? I don't...really remember.”

“Doesn't surprise me. I actually came here to talk to you because I would have needed you, but then you just passed out right in front of me. I was that close to calling the cops. Then I wanted to call an ambulance for obvious reasons, but you nearly broke my arm and made me promise to call that nurse woman, Claire. She left about an hour ago. She wouldn't tell me much, except about your...way of 'seeing'.” He hadn't intended to sound this angry, but then again he had just found out that his best friend had lied to him for years. It made him feel so sad, that apparently he couldn't be trusted with something this big.  
He couldn't sit still, his leg shaking nervously. 

“You want to say something. Say it.” Matt tried to hide his emotions, he really did, but his shaky voice betrayed him. He hoped Foggy wouldn't notice. 

This was all he needed to explode, releasing all the stress that had been building inside him for hours now, making him nearly shout. How could he possibly be still this arrogant, after all that had just happened?! “You lied to me, Murdock.” Mean satisfaction flooded his tired mind when Matt flinched at being called by his last name by his best friend. “For years and years and you didn't even think about telling me once? Just once? I thought we were friends and that we could trust each other, but apparently neither of us is worthy of that trust!” Foggy saw him open and close his mouth, trying to find words to say, but he cut him off before he could make a single noise. “You go out at night, beating up people for the greater good, like some sort of hero, but let me tell you, Matt: you are not! You are no superhero with special powers, you are a blind moron in a mask, pretending to be so mysterious and so special. Okay, fine, maybe you have some crazy freak way of 'seeing', but that doesn't make you indestructible. You could have died out there! You nearly did!”

Matt tried to hold back his tears, tried to stay strong, but it wouldn't work. The word 'freak' had went straight to his heart and ripped open an old and painful wound, making it bleed again. Eventually the first tears ran down his face. He quickly wiped them away and then sat up. He needed to feel safe again, built his defences back up. 

“You aren't even blind! How sick is that??”

“I'm...Foggy, I am blind. I can't see colours. I would be lost in a different city, because I would have no idea where the hell to go.”

“That's bullshit and you know it!” Foggy didn't even try to hide his tears. But he could see how hard Matt struggled, trapped in muteness. It was unusual for him to not have a good comeback. 

After several minutes of angry silence, Foggy noticed that the dressing on Matt's stomach had bled through. He sighed and got the first-aid kit out again. “You are bleeding again. I'll just...stitch you back up.”

“It's fine, I can do it. I used to stitch up my dad. I...told you about him, didn't I?” He sounded seriously uncertain. He also looked rather concerned. Foggy just nodded and huffed a grumpy “Yes.” while he sat back down and watched as his hands found the deep cut and started closing it carefully. Several deep groans made their way through his gritted teeth. What he really wanted to do right now, was to scream, but he was afraid, that if he started once, he wouldn't be able to stop. When he was finished, he leaned back again, taking deep breaths. 

For a while Foggy had been just watching, not feeling particularly emotional or something, but now the anger grew back. “One day you'll get yourself killed. You know that, right Matt?”

“I don't want to stop.”

“Yeah or maybe you can't. Maybe you just need an excuse for beating up people without feeling too bad about it.”

“That's not true! I am not a criminal! I'm just trying to help.” 

“And by doing so you nearly kill people. Or did you do that intentionally already?”

“Did you...did you seriously just ask me that?? I'm not a killer, Foggy! I have never killed any one and I don't intend to.”

“Well how would I know. I don't seem to know a lot about you these days, do I.” His voice sounded thick, his heart beat fast. First he had talked himself into rage, now it had turned into sadness, making his eyes go damp, tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't bother hiding them. At least Matt looked miserable himself. He obviously tried to regain control over his face, his mask in front of his emotions, but he failed pathetically. If nothing else he managed to fight back the sobs, building in his chest. 

Foggy kept staring at him, not being able to take off his eyes. This was the man he used to trust, the man he used to joke around with. Get drunk, have a good time. But now, all there was left was blame and shame and sadness. And an emptiness inside their hearts.  
Eventually he got up from his chair and went to leave, but after short consideration, he turned around once more: “I thought I could trust you.”


	2. I'm Daredevil, Karen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: self harm, depressions
> 
> Matt is very much done with everything. Then Karen stops by and he first tells her, then pushes her away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but I had kind of a writer's block...

Matt managed to keep up his cracking facade until the door fell shut, the sudden noise making him flinch. 

And the dam broke. The dam, that had been building inside him for so long now broke, releasing all the tears he had kept hidden deep inside him, all the desperation and loneliness, flooding his mind.  
He buried his face in his hands, trying to gain back control over his emotions, but he failed pathetically, up to the point where violent sobs fought their way up his dry throat, taking away his breath. But no tears came any more. He should have called after Foggy. He should have fought for his friend.  
But now he was alone in his world on fire. Alone and despised, despised by his best friend. And it was all his own fault. 

Foggy would never forgive him for what he'd done, or what he might have to do, one day. Though maybe it was better this way. He was safe now. Without him. 

This thought was enough to make him feel like he was going to explode any second; too much pressure had built inside him. And he needed a valve, a way to get rid of said pressure. He only knew one.

It hurt more than he would have expected it to, when he got up from the couch, stumbling to the bathroom. His hands were shaking, so it took him a while until he finally found the razorblades, hidden in a cupboard under a pile of towels. Then he sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He took a deep breath, knowing he'd regret this soon, but he couldn't stop. 

The sharp metal cut through his skin as if it was nothing. At first Matt didn't feel anything, he only smelled the blood, slowly making its way down his arm. Then it began to sting and he let the feeling take over his senses, blinding out any other thought or emotion or physical feeling. Sometimes he felt like he was high when he did this. On other times he just wanted to curl up under a blanket and hide from the world like a scared little child. 

This time was enjoyable. 

One single tear rolled down his cheek as he felt how the strain ceased. Just a little, but enough to survive the next few days. 

His hand shook slightly. 

 

Foggy was angry. He had left Matt's flat in fury, and disappointed. How could he have kept a secret this big from him?? For all these years? All those times he had helped him, warned him about trash cans when he was on collision course. Matt had probably known they were coming long before Foggy had pointed it out. 

He thought he'd known him. But apparently he didn't. He had been fooled. It was embarrassing how easy it must have been for Matt to lie to him, every day, right into his face. How could he have trusted him? How did he not notice?

Well, probably because Matt was a pretty damn good lawyer and always polite and kind and calm and honest. And apparently very good at keeping secrets. 

Foggy rushed down the street, let his feet carry him wherever they wanted. He just had to blow off some steam, calm down.

The thing was though, that he wasn't only angry, or hurt in his feelings. He was sad. So sad, that Matt was this...trustless, introverted. Lonely. Because nobody could tell him, that beating up bad people in a secret identity helped at getting friends. Plus: Matt had always been kind of a loner, but now Foggy wasn't so sure any more, if it was because he was Daredevil, or because it was just part of his character. 

Additionally to the sadness, there was excitement, too. I mean how many times in your life do you have the chance to meet someone with these kind of abilities? Being able to fight off nearly anybody. Sure, to the police – and the gangsters Matt beat up – he was a vigilante. But to the people of Hell's kitchen, all the innocent he protected. To them, Daredevil was a hero. 

Eventually Foggy stopped walking. He sighed deeply. Sure, fighting crazy villains on the street in a costume wasn't the most legal way to go against crime, but maybe it was the thought that counted? Also, the system was far from perfect. How many times were criminals allowed to walk freely on the streets, just because there was not enough evidence, although everybody knew they were guilty? 

“He's gonna be the death of me.”, he murmured, then turned around on the spot and made his way back to Matt's flat. 

 

Meanwhile, Karen was worried. She had tried to call Matt earlier, but Foggy had answered instead and told her that Matt had been in an accident. Of course she had asked how he was doing, if he was alright. Turns out he had refused to pay the hospital a visit although he wasn't in the best shape imaginable. So naturally, she was now on her way to his place. 

And now she was standing in front of his door. She had already rung three times, yet nobody had opened. It wasn't until now, that she finally heard heavy steps approaching. Didn't sound healthy. 

And indeed, after another minute, the door slowly opened. It was Matt. At first Karen was tempted to ask where the hell Foggy was, but then she took a closer look. There was a huge bruise on his right temple, burning red, a cut on the bridge of his nose and on his left cheek. He wore a thin jacket, but it wasn't closed entirely. She could see two weirdly clean cuts on both sides of his chest, just underneath of his collarbones. And besides all these wounds, he looked worn out, his face pale, dark shadows under his eyes; he wasn't wearing his glasses. He was holding on to the door leaf, fingers clawing into the wood, his right hand hanging on his side weakly. She figured that if he let go, he probably wouldn't be able to hold himself up.  
“What...are you alright??”, she eventually asked. 

A dry chuckles escaped him, his lips twisting into a thin smile, but never reaching his eyes. “I'm fine.” His voice was quiet. She liked to describe it as small. “Just a little...you know. Tired.”

“Sure. Right.” She sighed and reached out for him in attempt of petting his shoulder to show affection, but he flinched away. It wasn't only the movement that made her feel more than uneasy, but also the brief expression of fear, flashing across his face.

Then he had his control back and quickly asked: “What are you doing here?”

“Well...Foggy said you were in a car crash. So I thought I'd stop by to check on you. What happened there? You look horrible.”

It was tempting. Lying, I mean. Just...making up a story to make her think everything was alright. But he couldn't do that. He didn't have the strength to keep playing this person he pretended to be day for day, putting on a mask every time he left his home. A mask made of smiles and clever statements. Random chattering. He couldn't keep doing this. 

So he didn't. 

“Wasn't a car crash.”

Karen stared at him in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean??” 

He lowered his head, his right hand's fingers tapping against his thigh. “I'm Daredevil, Karen.”

She felt like she just fell off a cliff. Hadn't he said her name, she might have believed that she had misunderstood. But she didn't. She wanted to say something, ask something. Anything. But her voice wouldn't obey her, but instead refused to make a single noise. 

Matt listened to her closely, trying to find out what was going on inside her. He had heard her heart skipping a beat, probably out of surprise. Now it was beating faster, pounding against her ribs. He just wished he wasn't in such bad shape, otherwise he could have told if it was out of fear, or out of rage. Nevertheless, she didn't seem to want to say something. He guessed she was just too shocked and angry to seriously say anything.

“I'll just...I'll just go back.”, he said after while of silence. He turned around, slowly, and let the door fall shut behind him. He then made his way back to the couch. It took him a while until he was finally there, but even from a few steps away he could already sense the razorblades, now laying on the floor. The bathroom had gotten cold.


	3. I've been better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen's inner thoughts after Matt told her, then Foggy and Karen find him pretty broken on his couch. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNGING: mentions of cutting and deep depressions; self blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically just lots of fluff and a little drama. This is more of an observing chapter, so not so much dialogue.  
> Sorry that Claire's apperance was only this short, though...

Yes, Karen was shocked. She really had not seen this coming. Matt was a blind lawyer! He wasn't supposed to be jumping around like a bloody hero. Though obviously she had always supported Daredevil. Question was, how she felt now. To her own surprise she wasn't angry. Well okay, maybe a little bit. But apart from that she was more...worried. Matt was her friend. And now he was injured and clearly lonely. She wondered what he thought about her. Probably that she blamed him for not telling her. 

But she didn't. Because somewhere she could understand, why he hadn't told her. Well her and probably Foggy. She didn't think he'd know; otherwise he wouldn't have spoken so harshly against Daredevil. She could understand, that he very likely didn't say anything to protect them. Everybody knew that loved ones were a risk that not everyone could take.  
And certainly not Matt.

But she wouldn't just let him walk away like this, hiding inside his flat. She wanted to know the whole story, wanted some answers. That for once he owed her. 

She was just about to ring again, when a voice interrupted her: “Karen? What are you doing here?” It was Foggy. 

“I...was worried about Matt and thought I'd stop by. But now he shut the door in front of my nose after he told me he was Daredevil.” She had intended to ask if it was true, but the way Foggy sighed and ran his hand through his hair told her that no question was needed here. He knew. 

“He wouldn't let me tell you earlier. I just found out yesterday night when I went here and he passed out right in front of me. Still wearing that bloody costume.”

“Do you think he's alright? Not physically, I mean.”

“Why? How'd he look?” He stepped closer to the door. Then he knocked. “Matt?? Open up, it's me!”

“Well he looked...tired, mostly. But also...something else. Sad.” 

Foggy felt a sharp sting of guilt inside his chest. He shouldn't have gotten so angry. Or at least he shouldn't have left. “I don't think he'll open. Let's just...go inside.” It didn't surprise him that the door wasn't locked. 

They entered quietly and walked to the living room. Neither of them knew what they'd expected, but it surely wasn't this: Matt was laying on his back on the couch, his right hand hanging to the floor. Foggy couldn't quite make out what it was, but something silvery laid just on Matt's fingertips. His eyes were closed, his breathing calm, but when Foggy stepped closer, he could see some bright red cuts on his right arm. They hadn't been there this morning. 

“Matt?” Foggy didn't even try to hold back the tears. He felt so guilty, for doing this to him. He shouldn't have shouted at him, shouldn't have blamed him for trying to help. What if he didn't just cut, but tried to kill himself?? What if one day, he succeeded? “Matt, wake up. Please!” He carefully shook his shoulder, but the only reaction he got, was that Matt turned around onto his side, facing the back of the sofa. He had closed his hand around the blade – aka the silvery thing – and was now holding both hands in fists to his chest. The thin blanket that had barely covered more than his torso, now completely fell down to the floor, exposing his bare back. He still wore the sweatpants, but he had lost the jacket and, oddly enough, his socks. 

A slight shiver ran over his body. Probably the cold, so Foggy quickly put the blanket back in place. He didn't want to think about all the scars he had just seen, but he wanted to take the razorblade, so Matt wouldn't cut his hand. He reached out and tried to open his hand, but he just curled himself up closer, not letting him in.

“Foggy?” Karen seemed upset herself, her eyes moist. 

“Yeah.” He sniffed and shortly cleared his throat, then took a step back from the couch and kept talking. “He cut. Seemingly a lot. And this is my fault.”

“No, don't say that! How could it be your fault??” 

“We had a huge fight this morning and I said so many mean things, but I was so angry! I've known him for so long now, I thought he could trust me and I could trust him!”

“But you can. I believe he was just trying to protect you. Just imagine how many times you would have been kidnapped already, if people knew you are the best friend of Daredevil.”

“It's my fault.” He sniffed again, wiped away the tears.

“Don't blame yourself.” She closed their distance with two short steps, then took him into her arms, hugging him softly. 

Foggy let her warmth and care embrace him, let his tense muscles relax a little.  
But after a while he pulled back and looked at Matt, who still hadn't moved. “Maybe we should call the nurse woman. She stitched him up. This scares me a little and I don't know what to do, maybe she does.”

“Alright, you call her, I'll just watch Matt. In case he...I don't know, does something.”

 

Claire arrived 20 minutes later, in which Matt still didn't move, just sometimes let out a quiet whimper. She didn't even bother knocking, but just rushed inside. One quick look to Foggy and Karen, standing right next to Matt, who was all curled up, told her everything she needed to know. Of course Foggy had told her about what seemed to be going on, but now she could put a proper picture to it. 

She went to Matt and sat down next to him, careful not to get too close.

Foggy and Karen were standing a few feet away now, watching. Claire was talking to Matt quietly, but they couldn't understand what she was saying, He on the other hand, just nodded once or twice, then shook his head. After another few minutes of talking, he rose his hand. It looked heavy and slow, as if something was pulling it back down. Then he seemed to give Claire something, before his hand dropped again.

Eventually Claire came back to Foggy and Karen. “He'll be alright. He's not physically injured too badly.” She looked at Foggy and gave him the blade. “Take good care of him. He needs you.” And with that she left. 

They exchanged a short look, then Karen went to Matt. She carefully tapped his shoulder, earning an alarmed twitch, but then he settled again quickly. He even managed to open his eyes, which, in his current state, was quite a lot. “Hey, Matt.”, she softly said and continued to stroke his arm. “How are you feeling?” 

Foggy wondered how he could have gotten this bad, without neither him nor Karen noticing. I mean they were around him every day. But on the other hand, he had had to discover his acting skills already. He slowly approached the other two, watching them. He felt oddly uncertain, distant even. He still couldn't shake off the blame, that had cloaked his chest like a tight string. 

But, to everybody's surprise, Matt rolled onto his back. “I've been better.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Sarcasm. A nice way to fake a little confidence. 

Matt chuckled weakly, new waves of pain flooding his body. Next to him he could feel a tiny bit of Karen's and Foggy's tension leave their bodies. Not much, but it was a start. He didn't want them to feel bad because of him. 

Foggy however, suddenly gently lifted Matt's torso, sat down on the couch and laid his head into his lap. To Matt's surprise, he started stroking his hair, reeling single wisps around his right hand's finger. His left hand rested just underneath Matt's right jaw, thumb sweeping over his skin, forearm resting on his chest. After a short moment of alerted tightness, he relaxed again, enjoying the sensation.

Karen smiled at them warmly. She watched them for a few minutes, admiring Foggy's view, trailed off to somewhere in the distance, lost in thought. Matt's eyes were closed, his expressions calm. His left hand was lightly holding the blanket, covering him entirely, while his right hand had found a way out from down under the soft fabric and was now laying on his stomach, rising with every breath. 

She knew how close they were. And she also knew that she wasn't needed right now, so she caught Foggy's attention by waving her hand, then she mouthed “I'll come back later”, and quietly left the flat. She was very relieved, that Foggy wasn't angry any more. Right now, they had the power to destroy Matt. And that's the reason why they had to care for him, treat him with caution, so they wouldn't break him. 

But she felt like it was going uphill already. Just a bit, but they could work on that; they had time.


	4. Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foggy and Matt get closer again and talk a little, Foggy makes Matt eat and Karen stops by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of fluff, really. 
> 
> Sorry this took me so long, but I had a lot to deal with lately. Next chapter will follow very soon though.

Foggy continued stroking Matt's hair, enjoying the sensation himself. It felt good, being able to sooth his friend, make him feel safe. He kept petting, until Matt had fallen asleep and even then he didn't stop. He didn't deny, that it had a calming effect on him, too

They remained like that for maybe two hours, neither of them moving, though after a while Foggy had leaned back and laid his head on the backrest of the couch. He wasn't quite sure, but there was the possibility that he'd dozed off one or two times. Or five. 

Now though, he noticed, that Matt's hands were twitching every now and then. His eyes were moving under his closed lids, his dry lips forming unrecognisable words, but no sound was to be heard. 

Foggy guessed he was dreaming, but he didn't know if it were good dreams or bad dreams. He figured he was on the safe side if he just woke him up. But before he could do anything, Matt jumped awake with a small groan, eyes wide open. His whole body was tense again, his head lifted a few inches off Foggy's thighs, who found himself a little startled. Yet after a few seconds he had recovered himself again. 

“Everything's fine, Matt.”, he said, softly stroking his forehead until he had settled again. 

It took him a few moments, until Matt was completely there again, but then – mainly to distract both of them of his weird behaviour – he asked: “Where's Karen?”

“She left earlier. Said she'd be back later, though.” Then he asked: “You hungry? I have a feeling like you haven't eaten in a while.”

“Not hungry.” He felt like he was going to puke if he ate anything right now; the thought alone made him feel sick. Though Foggy was right. He couldn't even remember the last meal he'd had. Probably way too long ago. 

“Right.” Foggy carefully helped him sit upright before he got up and went to the kitchen, to check if there was anything eatable. There wasn't. Why didn't that surprise him? “I'll just order some pizza. And you'll eat at least two slices or so help me god.”

“Fine.” Matt leaned back again, exhaling slowly. He felt oddly uncomfortable about Foggy fuzzing over him liked that. He wasn't a broken vase he could glue back together. He wasn't even sure if he was broken. Perhaps he was just bent. He hoped he was, because then he could keep acting like everything was alright in front of everyone else.

“Are you at least thirsty?” Matt had already opened his mouth, but Foggy interrupted him: “Doesn't matter, I'll bring you something either way.”

“You know, I could have gotten it myself, I can still walk.”, he complained.

“Don't be ridiculous, you can barely sit by yourself without falling off the couch.” He gave him a glass, filled with water, but before he let go completely, he made sure that Matt held it securely, not wanting to risk him dropping it.

“Thanks.” He quietly took a few sips, letting the liquid run down his dry throat. “Foggy-” He didn't really know what to say. He wanted to explain, why he hadn't told them, why he had to go back. He wanted to tell him, that maybe he did have a little breakdown, but now he was fine again – despite the fact that he wasn't, but that wasn't important – and that Foggy didn't have to pretend to feel sorry for him. There really wasn't a reason for that. 

“Yeah? What's the matter?”

“I … you don't have to stay, you know. I'm fine. I can take care of myself.”

“No, you don't, stop talking such rubbish. I'm your friend and you are … I don't know, hurt, and you need me. I stay.”

A small chuckle escaped Matt, only short and quiet, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Why would you want that, Foggy?? I lied to you, for years! I betrayed you!”

“And you think I'll just leave you now? Because you lied to me? That's stupid and not fair. Because Karen helped me understand why you never told us: to protect us. Yes, I was angry, and yes, it's yet too early for jokes, but I'm here for you and right now I think you need someone. And not only to keep you from killing yourself. Well, at second thought, maybe that, too.”

“I don't … I don't think … Foggy do you really think I'd kill myself??? Why?” He lowered his head when he asked this. 

“Because your arms look like a battlefield, but that wasn't there this morning. I've never noticed all the scars on your arms because you'd always wear long sleeves, but now I have and I'm shocked about the pure mass of them. And I have no idea how far you'd go to … what is it even why you do that?”

“I don't want to talk about it. Please?” 

His cracking voice was all Foggy needed to stop pushing him. With a small nod he shortly squeezed his shoulder, then he turned away. “I'll be right back.”

Matt waited until he had left the room, until he quietly wiped away the tears that had already welled up again. He sniffed and lowered his head, keeping his breath calm. Shortly after Foggy came back.

“Pizza's on the way.” He sat down in a chair in front of Matt, exhaling loudly.

“Great.” Matt tried to sound more or less happy about that, he even tried to be happy, but failed pathetically. He sighed. “Tell me about you week.”, he finally said.

“… Why?”

“I just … want to hear you talking about something normal; complain about stupid people or Marci or … something.” He leaned back again, his eyes turned to the ceiling, though he was following every move Foggy made. He liked the thought of them, just talking like they used to. Before he had started isolating himself. 

“Alright, sure.” He looked at his damaged friend, his face as relaxed as it was gonna get today, then started talking. “Well, yesterday I went to see Marci, because of a client, and to get there I took a cab. And the driver was the most arrogant dick I've ever met. He talked about how great of a driver he was, and how everybody who's ever driven with him would recommend him in a heartbeat, but he still didn't manage to take me where I wanted to go. Instead, he got lost but wanted way too much money in the end.”

“Did you give it to him?” Matt actually managed to smile a genuine smile.

“No! Of course not!” Foggy grinned. “I told him he could stick his driving skills where the sun don't shine and ran off to Marci because he'd gotten me there late.”

“I bet you did.” 

“I was also scared he'd throw his old cup of coffee after me.” 

Matt chuckled. “That would have left a rather nasty stain on your beautiful suit.”

“Are you insulting my suit?? I love my suit! It's my best one!” Foggy boxed his friend against the shoulder. Only lightly though, so he wouldn't hurt him. It felt good, having a happy chat with him. He hadn't really noticed how much Matt had actually isolated himself, but looking back he could punch himself in the face for not noticing. 

“And your only one.”, came back the dry answer, and when looking at him, Matt had a smug little smile on his lips. 

 

Only a short while after, the doorbell rang. Foggy immediately jumped up and scooted to the door, expecting the pizza delivery guy. He probably looked more disappointed than it would have been polite, going by Karen's raised brow. Because it was, in fact, her standing in front of him. 

“Nice to see you, too, Foggy.”, she huffed and made her way inside. “How's Matt?”

“Better, I guess. We ordered pizza. Should be here any minute now.”

“Alright. Good. I guess I came just at the right time then.” She smiled and went to Matt, leaving Foggy at the door, though he didn't have to wait there long until the food finally arrived. 

 

Karen sat down next to her friend, who was sitting surprisingly straight, considering his physical state and the fact that he had swallowed one or two painkillers, when Foggy had went to open the door. But now that she could take a closer look at him, she noticed how his weary eyes were barely open; Matt seemed to be making quite some effort, trying to stay awake. 

“Hello Karen.”, he suddenly said. He didn't even notice that he slurred slightly. He just hoped he wouldn't fall over any second. Maybe the medication had been a mistake, it always made him feel so weird.

“Hey Matt.”, she smiled. Or at least she tried, but it suddenly wasn't as easy as usually. Instead she looked rather desperate, trying to ignore the circumstances, trying to bring in some normality. “How are you?”

“Well, tired, but, you know, I suppose. Mm … better.” He found it oddly difficult, getting his brain to form thoughts or, even worse, getting his tongue to speak them in a sense making way. He got the impression that it wasn't working very well. “Tired”, he continued. “But Foggy makes me eat, so, I think, later only I can sleep. Get some sleep.”

“Yeah … I think that'd be a good idea.” She seemed somehow suspicious about his weird behaviour and shot an asking look at Foggy.

Foggy, who had just come back in, holding the pizza, shrugged. “He must have taken painkillers. Claire said they're quite strong. He probably feels pretty high at the moment.” He couldn't help but grin. “I'll make him eat anyway, so he doesn't starve himself.”

“I'm here, too. You know.” Matt's face was once again turned towards the ceiling, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Just … food.”

“Sure. Food.”


	5. We will save him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt has a fever and a quite terrible nightmare but Foggy gets him out of it. Matt reveals something rather horrific.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably take ages again, so sorry in advance. 
> 
> I also apologize because I don't know how to get Matt out of his depression, but I'm sure I'll manage to figure something out. Eventually. But I'd be glad if you could give me ideas on how to let him be happy again because I really have no clue. I always end up letting my characters fall back again soooo ... tips appreciated and required.

It had taken Foggy lots of negotiation to get Matt to eat more than two bites, but eventually he had eaten three entire slices. Then however, he had stated that if he had to eat one more piece, he'd throw up until there was nothing left in his stomach. 

After that Karen had quickly changed the sheets of Matt's bed. According to the smell, he hadn't done that in a while. 

Then he had allowed Foggy to steer him into his bedroom. He had felt too dizzy and tired to use his senses properly, so he didn't complain. Instead he let himself fall onto the mattress, face buried in a pillow. His two friends had watched in amazement, how he had drifted off into sleep within seconds, still laying on his stomach. 

 

He had stayed like that without moving until now, two hours later. Foggy and Karen were sitting on the couch in the next room, watching a movie on the laptop she had brought with her. Although they had left the door to Matt open in case he woke up. 

Now they suddenly heard some movement, mixed with barely hearable whimpers. They looked at each other, then got up and rushed to Matt.

He was twisting and turning in his bed, his hands were clutching the sheets, desperately holding on to them. His whole body was tense and covered in sweat, making his shirt stick to his damp skin.  
Their faces immediately changed from mildly concerned to honestly worried about the scene in front of them. 

Foggy sat down on the mattress next to his friend, feeling his forehead. He was practically on fire. “Call Claire!”

 

Claire arrived half an hour later, not amused. She'd had one hell of a week. The ER had been flooded with victims of a crazy car crash for two days and she had just fallen asleep for the first time in 53 hours when Foggy had called. 

She didn't even bother putting decent clothing on, just slipped into a hoodie and some sweatpants and got going. 

 

Now she rushed inside Matt's apartment, following Foggy to their friend. When she saw the twisting man, groaning and mumbling nonsense, she quickly started working. She checked for all his wounds, looking for infections, but thankfully she didn't find any. 

“He must have caught the flu. No big surprise, considering he runs around in nothing more than a thin suit.”, she said. “I can give him some medication to bring the fever down and maybe some ibuprofen against the pain, but not more.”

“What are we supposed to do?”, Karen asked, her brows raised in worry. “Is there any way we can help?”

“Yeah, umm, you can just look out for him and put a cold cloth on his forehead to help him cool down a little. Otherwise just...be there for him. To be honest, I don't think his biggest problem are his physical wounds.” Claire yawned and got up. “I hope you don't mind if I crash here? I'm too tired to go home.”

“Yeah, no, sure, make yourself comfortable.” Foggy tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. Then he turned to Karen. “I'll stay with him first, if that's okay.”

“Sure. I'll get you a bowl with water and a cloth, like Claire said.” She waited for him to nod, then left the room, while Foggy stayed and tried to sooth his restless friend. 

 

Matt was freezing. He felt as if he was covered in ice, his body aching and shaking. He opened his eyes and looked around. He didn't know where he was right away, but there was something different. Something wasn't quite right. 

Then it hit him like a truck: he could see. His eyes were actually working, showing him the world with all her colours. Though at the moment it was quite dark, shadows everywhere. But he didn't get to enjoy this new, yet so old sense of his, because suddenly there appeared men out of nowhere. 

Three men, one with terrible, terrible blades, one with a gun, the metal shining cold in the dark and the third one unarmed. But that last one had something about him that made Matt think he didn't need a weapon to destroy him. He sucked in a shaky breath. He knew they'd attack soon, prepared himself. He also tried to ignore the fact that neither of them had eyes or a nose or a mouth. Only blank skin covering their faces. 

Then it began, they started stabbing an shooting at once, using every opportunity they got. And there were many, because Matt – he couldn't move. He tried, spoke to himself: You have to move, Matt, move! But it wouldn't work. He stood there, in the middle of an old warehouse, he could feel the hot bullets and the cold blades breaking into his body, ripping his skin apart. And he was frozen.

That's when he started screaming on the top of his lungs, and the men were suddenly screaming, too, yelling at him, all the deaths that had been his fault, every word a stab to his heart, pulling down to his guts until he was laying on the dirty floor. 

Suddenly the others were gone, leaving silence behind. But Matt knew, he knew it wasn't over yet. 

“It's all your fault, Matty.” He slowly got up on his knees, looked into the direction from where the voice was coming from and he gasped in disbelief. It was his father, looking down on his weak son, covered in cuts and bruises, a tear running down his dusty cheek. “What a disappointment you are, Matty. I wish they had killed you so you wouldn't be able to endanger any one else.”

“Matt!” A new voice. Also familiar. But warm and welcoming and soft. “Wake up, Buddy.”

“ 'M not 'sleep.”, he slurred. But he wished he was. Then he wouldn't have to think any more. Though death would be more efficient for that matter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to just stop existing so that all the pain would go away. 

“Yeah, you are, open your eyes.” Foggy – because it was, indeed, him – sounded somewhat more firm now, worried. 

“Promise he'll go away.” Matt gave up the little control over his sore body, slumping onto his back. “Promise me!”

“Okay, yeah, of course. I'll make him go away. Just … open your eyes.”

Suddenly he could feel the floor change. It became sort of soft, letting him sink in a little. Then he noticed strong hands, pinning his arms down beneath his head, holding his wrists tightly. Matt ripped open his eyes with a scared whimper, struggling weakly against the grip. 

“Hey, it's me, Foggy. Relax, Matt, everything's fine! You are safe! You are in your apartment in your bed. Karen is here and Claire is here, too and we're all fine.”

“F … Foggy?” His voice was quiet and scratchy, his eyes pointing into all sorts of directions. He couldn't quite 'see' yet, still too caught in his nightmare, all the words and accusations whirling around in his head. 

“Yes. I'm here.” Foggy took his hands off his friend's wrists, slowly, so he wouldn't frighten him. “I'm always here for you.”

“I don't – I'm not sure I can … I'm afraid.” He didn't even care about all the tears, streaming down his heated cheeks. Too many emotions filled his mind, too many thoughts. 

“Scared of what, Gorgeous?” He gently brushed away some curls from his forehead, his other hand laying on his chest, trying to sooth him. The word had just casually slipped his lips, he hadn't actually meant to call Matt a nickname. Now he just tried to act like it hadn't happened. 

And Matt himself was too worked up to really notice it. “I can't do it alone.” It wasn't more than a harsh whisper, but Foggy heard him just fine. 

“Do what alone?”

Matt didn't answer the question but instead sat up and pulled his knees up to his chest, pushing Foggy's hand away. “I'm scared that I won't be able to take another step.” He weakly rested his temple on his knees, tears dropping down on the mattress. “You saw what I did with those razorblades and you know that that wasn't the first time and that it won't be the last time, but I'm scared that one day that won't be enough. That I won't be strong enough to fight the urge to … to cut … deeper.” His breath hitched at that.

Foggy felt as if somebody had emptied a bucket full of ice water over his head and it was now running down his spine, soaking into his skin, freezing his entire body. 

Matt had just told him that he was suicidal. 

“And … I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!” Matt could feel panic rising in his chest, making it hard to breath. “I just want to stop existing, I don't want to have to think about … anything any more. I … I'm so screwed up, Foggy, I'm sorry.” He cried more openly now again, violent sobs fighting their way up his throat until he thought he'd suffocate. Foggy didn't wait for long until he closed in and took his hurting friend into his arms, holding him tight and stroking his back while waiting for him to calm down. 

After a short while Karen came in, looking rather concerned. “Everything alright?” She went to the two men, trying to figure out whether or not she should do something. 

“He's … having a hard time.” Foggy gave her a sad smile and kept petting his friend. “Can you wait outside for a minute please? I need to talk to you.”

She nodded of course and went back to Claire, who was still asleep on the couch. 

“Alright Matt, I'll just be outside for a second and talk to Karen and then I'll be right back, okay?”

“Why?” Matt sniffed and tried to hide his trembling hands as Foggy untangled himself from the other man. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, his breathing not even just yet. He was still panting, although he was attempting to control it better. 

“Just to talk; I'll be back real soon. Just … stay put and relax.” Foggy waited until Matt nodded, then he went to Karen. She looked a little worn out and tired. She probably hadn't slept a lot in the past few days. 

“What's the matter?”, she asked.

He sighed deeply, thinking of a way to tell her gently, but there really wasn't one. “Matt is suicidal. He … wants to stop existing.”

For a few seconds Karen just stared at him, then the information reached her brain. Tears started welling in her eyes, then streaming down her face uncontrollably. She clutched her hands in front of her mouth, gulping back a sob. Foggy quickly closed in their distance and hugged her, making soothing noises to calm her down until she pulled away. “For how long has he been struggling like this?? For how long did he hide this?”

“I don't know. But I think it must have been quite some time.” His eyes were moist, too, but he really couldn't care less.

“We have to get him help, Foggy!”

“You know exactly that he won't see anybody or go to a group meeting.”

“But we can't just let him kill himself!” She stared at him in shock. 

“We won't. We will … we will save him.”

“How?? How the hell do we save him?!”

“We will be there for him and help him and get him out of whatever dark place he is in right now. And I swear to his precious god that if he dies, I will kill him.”


	6. I did not see this coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lots of fluff and a little smut; I finally managed to involve Claire a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title pretty much describes my writing process, because I literally di not see the end of the chapter coming, though I'm glad it turned out this way because now I can go further in the direction of some happy shit xD
> 
> I hope you guys like it.

“Alright, get up!” Foggy stood in front of Matt, looking at him sternly. 

“Why?” He didn't want to move. Or rather couldn't. It felt as if his body was tied to the bed, making it impossible to even twitch a finger, his head heavy as rocks. 

“Because you need a shower and if you don't obey me, I'll drag you there and strip you naked myself.”

“Is that a promise?” I was unbelievable that after all that had happened, he still managed to conjure a pretty convincing, pretty smug smile, brightening up his whole face, though never reaching his dark eyes.

Foggy hesitated for a second, slightly stunned. Then he chuckled lightly. “It's a threat.”

“Then I shall resist it.” he would never admit that deep down he knew he wasn't really flirting or even joking around, but rather trying to hide the fact that he didn't have control over his limp body, while anxious panic slowly rose in his chest. 

Foggy however saw right through his thin facade and it broke his already aching heart. He forced himself to smile anyway and pulled away the sheets from Matt, who had, as soon as Foggy had left to speak to Karen, curled himself up underneath the silky fabric, hugging a pillow. He still wore only the pair of sweatpants from before.

Matt made a small noise of protest as cold air hit his still overheated skin. But at least this unexpected sensation was strong enough to free his body form unbeatably heavy weakness. He slowly, carefully, let go of the pillow, nearly as if he was afraid that if he let go, he'd drown in heaviness again.

For once, he didn't.

“There you go, Buddy.” Foggy was somewhat relieved to see his friend finally moving. Not necessarily as fast as he usually would, but it was a start. He quickly jumped to his side to support him when he eventually stood on his feet, slightly swaying. 

Matt groaned and pressed his left hand to his head, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“You okay?” Foggy worriedly looked at him, one hand on his waist, the other one holding him by his right elbow. 

“Headache.” Underestimation of the century. He felt as if somebody was stabbing his brain with needles. Big ones. Repeatedly. But after maybe half a minute it stopped as suddenly as it had started. Or had it been longer? Hot fear shot through his body when he realized that he had lost his sense of time. He didn't even know if it was day or night right now. He tried to listen to the city to find out, but it wouldn't work. Not that he had become deaf, he just couldn't focus. 

“Matt?” Foggy had watched how the other man had grimaced in agony – and had then stared into one single direction for the next few minutes, a blank expression on his pale face, sweat on his forehead. Now his head snapped up and he even flinched a little. 

He looked terrified, his eyebrows contracted, sightless eyes wide open. After a few seconds he had recovered himself and tried to straighten his back with a deep breath but winced as sudden pain reminded him of the stab wound in his side. “ 'M fine.”

“Yeah sure thing.”, Foggy huffed and grabbed his arm firmer. Matt let him steer him to the bathroom without complaining, only stumbling forwards. 

 

The trouble started when he sat down on the toilet lid and he felt all his energy draining from his body again. He let out a heavy sigh and slowly slumped back against the cool wall, hands hanging loosely on his sides. 

“Can I leave you alone or do you need help?” Foggy felt weird, not being able to joke around or to be as sarcastic as he normally would. And he knew he was expected to do so. But right now he just couldn't. He simply couldn't bring up the strength to be funny. He didn't feel funny. He was tired and worn out, both emotionally and physically and it wasn't even noon yet. 

And now his best friend was sitting in front of him, looking as if he was going to fall to the floor any second.

“Yeah.” It took Matt a few seconds to notice that this hadn't been a yes/ no question. “I can manage alone.” Then he remembered the whole social thing: “Thanks.”

“I'll be outside. If you need anything, just give the word.” With one last concerned look Foggy left the room and sat down on the floor next to the not completely shut door to wait. 

 

After ten minutes there was still no sound of running water. To be perfectly precise, there was no sound at all. Finally Foggy got up and re-entered the bathroom. He found his friend exactly the way he had been when he had left earlier. He sighed and crouched down next to him. 

“What's wrong, Matty? Are you hurt?” He only got a weak head shake for an answer. “Okay.” Foggy wasn't stupid, he knew what was wrong. Another sigh left his throat, shortly lingering on his lips. “I am now going to pull you to your feet and I'd be glad if you could then stand and not just … fall over.” This time he didn't even get a real nod, only a small twitch to the left. “Alright.” 

Foggy took Matt's hands in his and gently pulled him into a straight position. Thankfully this got a little life back into his friend, so he carefully brought him up to his feet. And Matt finally stood. Pleased with himself Foggy now pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and proceeded by undressing him. 

Matt wasn't sure if he liked being fussed over like this at the moment, but he knew he didn't have any saying in it. So he let Foggy pull his pants down and help him step out of them. Then he listened as he turned on the shower, waiting for the water to get warm. 

He felt a little awkward, standing in the middle of the bathroom in all of his nakedness, while Foggy was still fully dressed in front of him and, unlike Matt, able to see everything. Then again, he didn't really have it in him to do anything about it and after all, they had been best friends for over five years now. They knew a lot of embarrassing things about each other and this would probably just add to the list and one day be forgotten. Hopefully.

Matt stepped into the shower, careful not to slip and leaned with his hands against the wall, head ducked a little.

When he finally stood under the hot spray, he slowly woke from his trance. His stitches itched a little with the soft impacts of the waterdrops but he welcomed the sensation. After a few minutes his tense muscles relaxed a little and he felt his body absorbing the heat. He had been utterly cold in the past few hours and not been able to warm up properly. Probably a side effect of the fever. 

Foggy waited a little before applying shampoo into his hand and massaging it into Matt's hair, careful not to get any of it into his eyes. Then he took a small sponge and cautiously cleaned his sweaty skin, going around the fresh cuts and trying to use as little pressure as possible on all the bruises so he wouldn't hurt him. 

Matt, however, tried not to wince every time a sharp sting screamed at him. After a while he stopped though, because he had already gotten used to it; nothing to take him by surprise any more.

 

While Foggy and Matt were in the bathroom, Karen went into his bedroom and changed the sheets, searching for the smoothest fabric she could find. She remembered all the things Foggy had told her about their friend while he was sleeping and recalled him saying something about oversensitive senses, so she figured this had to apply to his skin, too. And cotton would probably scratch like hell. Additionally to all the cuts that would rub over it. 

After a few minutes Claire joined her, having just woken from her badly needed sleep. She went straight to Matt's drawer and pulled out some fresh sweatpants and a pullover, both the softest in the whole closet. She added a pair of thick socks.

“For how long have you known?” Karen didn't look at her when the question slipped. She hadn't actually intended to ask, but now it was too late.

Claire didn't seem very surprised though. “A few weeks. I think it was after he fought off that guy who tried to kill you.” 

Karen stared at her. “I didn't even think about that yet.” She sat down on the now freshly made bed. “He saved my life. I'd be dead if it wasn't for him.” 

“Yeah, well. That's him.” A small smile cracked through her tough facade when she thought about how crazy and wonderful the things actually were that their mutual friend did. 

“He's a good man.” Karen grinned. “Completely mad, but a good man.”

“Sounds about right.”, Claire laughed back. Then she took the clothes and went to the bathroom. “Room service.”, she called and pushed open the door. She wasn't too shocked about the picture that presented itself, with Matt nakedly standing inside the shower and Foggy gently cleaning him.

Now he shot her a shy look and pointed to the sinks. “Put them there.” Matt didn't even show a real reaction, just tilted his head slightly, how he always did when he was listening closely. 

“Hey Matty, back with us?” She smiled broadly at the two of them and put the clothes away. “Good to see you walking.” She knew she wouldn't get an answer right now and she didn't want to make either of them feel uncomfortable with her intruding presence in this rather intimate scene, so she exited the room and closed the door behind herself. 

She left them in silence, until Matt turned around and spoke up: “Well this was awkward.” His voice was still raspy and a little deeper than usually.

“Yeah? Why?” Foggy was a bit surprised to hear his friend talking again, considering his condition before the shower. He helped him step out of it and wrapped him into a huge towel.

“You know, I don't get caught being showered by my best friend by a woman very often. Especially not by Claire, because she totally thinks we've got something going on and now she will never let that go again.” He dried himself of, careful not to pull any of his stitches.

“Seriously? Why would she think that?” Foggy's grin went from one ear to the other.

“I may or may not have said that I didn't want you to worry about me when she asked me why I didn't tell you.” Matt smiled shyly and wrapped himself tighter into his towel. “She is going to tease me to death. Possibly both of us.”

“We better give her something to tease about, then.” It wasn't a real decision, but suddenly Foggy leaned over, his soft lips brushing against Matt's. 

“I agree.” he could hear Foggy's heart pounding in his chest. But he wasn't gonna lie, his own felt as if it was going to burst any second. “But you should probably know, that she will tell Karen and then we will surely die-”

“Matt. Shut up.” It came out panting, his eyes wide open as he smiled in excitement.

“Make me.” It wasn't more than a whisper, raspy and hot, switching off any kind of thinking in Foggy's brain. 

And then, finally, their lips crashed together, Foggy pushed his tongue against Matt's lips, who let him in with the instant. They explored each others mouths, tasting the other one. Foggy pulled him closer by his hips, pressing their body's together. 

Matt let out a small moan when his towel fell to the floor, leaving him exposed to the damp air, heated up with steam and pregnant with the desire for sex. He let his hands trail over the other man's body until he found his ass, squeezing it with both hands, letting the veins of his arms show. 

The feeling of Matt's amazing fingers, strong and demanding, was enough to let Foggy pull away shortly and take off his shirt as quickly as possible. Then he pushed the other one against the door – out of both, precaution and lust – and smashed their lips back together. 

But Matt wanted more; he opened Foggy's pants, pulling out his dick, desperate for him. Foggy panted heavily and started kissing him; kissed his lips, over his collar down to his neck and shoulders, leaving little red marks behind. He felt Matt's hot breath on his own neck, short and heavy. 

But he also noticed that the other man was growing weaker, not having enough strength for this kind of activity. So he stabilized him by holding him up by his waist and then he took over both their cocks, stroking them at the same time in a steady pace. 

Matt couldn't help but moan. He brought up his hands to Foggy's shoulders, digging his nails into his skin for support, his head leaning against the door, his back arching away from it. 

It only took them minutes to cum, their smell and their noises were enough to make both of them feel lightheaded with pleasure. And then finally, finally Foggy pushed them over the edge at the same time, panting and moaning. 

Matt's knees buckled under the overwhelming sensation, but Foggy caught him before he could fall, gently lowered him onto the soft carpet and sat down next to him, letting him lean against his shoulder. 

“I … did not see this coming.”, Matt said after another few minutes. “But I really. Really really liked it.” He grinned sheepishly and lazily trailed over the other man's arm with his fingers. 

“Yeah. Me, too.” Foggy chuckled lightly and pressed a soft kiss into Matt's dark hair, still wet from the shower. “But as much as I'd like to keep sitting here with you, I'm afraid I'll have to clean both of us up and then get you into your clothes before Claire walks in on us again. Because then she'd probably not stop teasing for let's say … the next five years?”

Matt snorted in response and nodded. “Sounds about right.”


	7. You are important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. fluff fluff fluff fluff FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF OMG

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys this took so long, I'm so sorry xD  
> BUT OMG GUESS WHAT: I baked biscuits and I DIDN'T BURN THEM!!! Have you got any idea how rare that happens???   
> Uuuuuh and I'm about to start a new Daredevil fanfiction in an alternate universe (slightly, anyways) and it's gonna be so awesome!! I'm so happy right now :)

Claire knew. One look at them and she knew. Not only that both their faces were rather red than anything else, but they also shot each other rather informative looks. Matt even blushed when Foggy brushed against his bare arm. He only wore pants because of the stitches. 

She slipped Karen twenty dollars. 

“Seriously?”, Foggy huffed, while Matt tried to hide behind him in the hope of escaping the embarrassment that was sure to follow. “You did that??” 

“Well of course we did.” Claire grinned. “Though I have to admit that Karen started it.”

“It was quite obvious, really.” She was really trying to hold back her laughter. “I mean … you weren't exactly quiet.” She failed and broke down into a giggling mess, bending over the armrest of the couch.

“Matt sure looks like he had a reason not to be. All the way heated up. You're practically steaming, mate.” Claire followed their friend's example and nearly fell off her chair, her whole body rocking with laughter, while the other one was now only wheezing. 

They probably wouldn't have stopped in a hundred years, if Matt – whose ears had turned dark red by now – hadn't drawn attention to himself: he tucked Foggy's shirt, leaning heavily on his shoulder. “ 'M a bit dizzy.” He actually felt as if he was going to pass out any second, but he did a good job in hiding it. 

Foggy just nodded, gripped him around the waist and steered him to the couch, shoving Karen aside and sitting him down carefully. She made way and finally settled down a little, along with Claire who was quickly by their side, still a grin on her lips. 

“I just hope it wasn't too much. You still look like shit. Better shit than before, though.” She glanced at the two men who were trying to hide their embarrassment, Foggy for once not having a good comeback, while Matt was just inches away from falling asleep, head heavy on the couches backrest. Claire watched him for a second, before gently patting his shoulder. “I need to check your stitches. You can lay down if you want, but don't fall asleep just yet, okay?”

Matt nodded and leaned back, surprised when he found Foggy's thigh as a pillow, but really happy about it. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. It worked quite well. He felt how Claire's fingers traced over his skin and over his wounds, checking for anything she didn't like. Eventually she sighed. 

“You ripped open two of your stitches. I'll have to redo them.”

“Mhm.” He was so close to sleep, he didn't even find the strength to protest about it. Or the necessity. 

Foggy chuckled quietly and once again started stroking his hair, one hand laying on his shoulder. He remembered how both of them had enjoyed it last time – though he tried to blend out last time's circumstances. These were a little better. Or a lot. He wasn't really sure yet. He wasn't really sure about anything right now. Not about his feelings for Matt, or in what condition Matt actually was right now. He just hoped he wouldn't have a nightmare again. They scared Foggy himself, though he didn't even know what they were about. Only that they were terrifying Matt and it took quite a lot to accomplish this impossibility. Matt never got scared. He just stayed calm, analysed the problem and then tried to solve it. Unfortunately also by nearly dying, but Foggy knew there was no use in trying to talk him out of it. He had made very clear that he wouldn't stop. That he didn't want to and that he probably couldn't. 

“You okay?”, he softly asked.

“Yeah.” It was barely more than a screech with a word tangled into it, but he knew Foggy would understand just fine. He hissed when suddenly Claire's needle broke through his skin once again, but then just ignored her and let himself drift off into much needed sleep. 

If you think about it, it was perhaps a little disturbing or at least … let's call it unusual, that he was often able to shut down any sense of pain. He was just way too used to it already.

Foggy smiled at the peaceful sight of his boyfriend. His stomach suddenly felt like it was filled with butterflies when this word crossed his mind. He really really hoped that's what they were. Because he wouldn't know what to do if they weren't. Just … go back to being friends? It would never be enough. Not for him, anyway. 

But he also knew that it wouldn't be easy to keep up a functioning relationship with Matt Murdock, alias the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. They would have bad days. Possibly very bad days. But Foggy was ready and willing to do everything in his powers to make this work. To make them work. Otherwise there wouldn't be a 'them' any more. And Matt wasn't good in social things. He wasn't good in sharing things. And he certainly wasn't good in trusting people. He expected everyone to just leave, sooner or later. He was scared to open up because he didn't want to take the risk of showing vulnerability, of showing a way to hurt him. Because he was convinced that that would happen eventually. 

And Foggy had to convince him otherwise. Maybe not about other people. But he had to show him that he was worthy of his trust and that he would keep Matt safe and that he would love him, even if he opened up in front of him. 

He brushed away a dark curl, hanging into his forehead and smiled again. 

He would make this work. 

He would make them work.

 

Matt slept deep and calm, no dreams disturbing him for once in a very long while. 

Though now he stirred, a tired groan slipping his lips as he felt the last painkillers wear off. Then he remembered why he had needed them in the first place and why he was currently resting on Foggy's thigh. He couldn't help but wince when the memory of Karen and Foggy, finding him unresponsive on his couch, popped back up in his head. He wished it hadn't. 

He rolled on his side, facing the backrest of the sofa, trying to hide in the smooth fabric. 

“Morning, sunshine.” The sleepy voice belonged to Foggy, who stretched his arms a little before proceeding in stroking Matt's hair. “How are you feeling? And no lies!”

He listened carefully if Karen and Claire were still there, but apparently they had left; he couldn't pick up on either of their heartbeats. His own racing heart calmed a little at that thought. Less witnesses to his weakness. Then he opened his mouth a few times, trying to form a sentence that didn't sound too pathetic, but eventually gave up. “Embarrassed.”, he finally mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“What? Why?” Foggy softly smiled.

“Because … I am bothering you with my problems and I … I don't want to … want to worry you, or make you … make you feel burdened. I'm a burden to others.” He was too close to tears to be able to pretend that he still had control over himself. 

“No. No, Matty. You aren't a burden. You hear me?” He pulled the other man up, pressing his head against his chest, holding him tight. “You are our friend. Listen to my heartbeat, Matty, am I lying?”

“No.” It came out as a choked sound. 

“You are our friend and we are worried about you because we love you. I love you. And we will do everything we can to make you feel better.” He pressed a soft kiss into Matt's hair. “Am I lying?”

Matt shook his head, clutching Foggy's shirt with long fingers. He took deep breaths, taking in the sweet smell of the most precious person in his life.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed of. People need help every now and then. People need someone they can rely on, someone they can tell their deepest and saddest and most ridiculous secrets. Because if they don't, they break. They break apart like a teacup shattering. And you are falling, Matty. So please, don't cork up your needs and emotions. I am here for you.” he kissed him again, this time on his forehead. “You are important.”

“To the city?”

“Of course. But, you know, not only to them. Okay let's try it differently: you have to take care of yourself – with my help if you want, and you better had – so you can help protect the city. But if you put everybody's needs and well-being above yours, you have no chance of surviving this! So let me in. Let me help you.”

“But what if it's better this way?” His voice had gone really quiet and weak, but it sounded as if it had taken him some effort to form those words. 

“And how the hell do you want to protect others if you are dead? Do you want to rise from your grave and fight crime with ghostly stuff?” It was scary how close he had gotten to saying 'when' instead of 'if'. Though given the circumstances, not the biggest of all surprises. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “So you're not going to try anything?” 

“No.” Matt was a little astonished about how honest this little word had been.

“Good.” Foggy smiled. “You up for a movie?”

“Yeah.” Matt didn't even have to pretend this time, the corners of his mouth went up all by themselves. Just a little bit, but enough to make it count. He searched for the other man's hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you.”


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few words in the end.

It was two days later, when Matt went to work again. Foggy had insisted on trying to keep their firm going, so Matt wasn't gonna complain about it. At least he now had a scheduled day again. Which helped with getting up in the morning. 

Not that his depressions had just vanished, no. He still felt so goddamn helpless sometimes, as if he was falling into a pit of heavy darkness and nothing could get him out of it. 

But to his surprise, Foggy was the one who always accomplished that. And slowly, with tons of carefully placed words and touches, Matt finally understood the healthy concept of friendship. Why Foggy and Karen and Claire were helping him like that. Why they hadn't left. Why they wouldn't leave, even if – or rather when – they were in danger. 

So yeah, it was going uphill. Just like Karen had predicted. Well, she wasn't wrong very often after all. 

And Foggy had forgiven his friend more times already than he could count, and it was honest and loving when he said those three words to the other man when he had a bad day. 

It was getting better. Not all days, not everyday, but in baby steps. 

The three of them were figuring their lives out – quite successfully – and they were doing a good job in it. They'd work in a job they like, they'd laugh often, they'd meet up and have a few drinks and eventually they'd start kissing and making out and having lots of fun on top of furniture, but let's not go there now.

But it's gonna be fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ... the end of this story came rather abrupt, I know, it was for me too, but now here we are.  
> Thanks for reading, everyone.  
> Also if you liked this, you can go to my Instagram page Jonah_Smith_907_Fanfictions.  
> I will post updates there and you can send me prompts if you want.


End file.
